


Dinner Date

by Hardrada



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25508167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hardrada/pseuds/Hardrada
Summary: Just a PWP.   Although actually it's a PWP without sex which isn't something you see every day!  Sex is implied but there's absolutely nothing explicit.  They go out for dinner, then they go back to a hotel and indulge in implicit smut.
Relationships: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Dinner Date

**Author's Note:**

> Still finding my feet before I try anything deeper with these guys. It's such a joy to have people singing in my head again after such a long time. I feel like I've come home after a long time away...

Having just re-read the first paragraph, I think it’s safe to say that this is set before the infamous Golden Globes when they were both so drunk they couldn’t string a sentence together.

Dinner Date

The great thing about Chris (okay, one of the many great things. Annoyingly many, frankly) was undoubtedly the fact that he was a pliant, happy drunk. And pliable as well, which made for all kinds of fun times. And although he knew perfectly well that he was helpless when smashed (“staggering catastrophe” was one of his phrases for it), he really did not care, or at least not when he was with friends. With strangers, he was charm itself. Most of the time.

“Your problem, my friend, is that you have all the self-control of a duck”. The look that Chris gave Zach was beyond words. “Okay, maybe not a duck”.

“I feel absolutely sure that there are some very strong-willed ducks out there,” Chris responded, pronouncing the word ‘duck’ with great care. He was already well oiled. “In fact, I would say that some of them are absolute tyrants. The dictators of the duck world. Ducktators”.

“Oh god.” Zach felt a distinct face palm coming on, but managed to restrain himself as the night was young. He felt sure that there would be incidents ahead that would be far more worthy of a face palm than a conversation about ducks.

“My point,” he continued, trying to regain the high ground, “still holds. You have no self-control”.

“Not true, my bespectacled and bizarrely-hatted friend.” Chris raised his index finger. He was clearly about to Make A Point. “I have as much self-control as the next man”.

“Sure. If the next man was completely lacking in self-control”. Zach was beginning to feel the conversation, such as it was, spiralling away from him into one of those black holes that sucked in all drunken conversations. Maybe there was a parallel universe where every drunken conversation ever was just floating about. Along with lost socks. He began to suspect that he was not at his most sober either.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get out of here. We’re not allowed to disgrace ourselves in public, remember?”

“Fucking film companies. We’re making a movie, not going for beat… beeti… beetif … sainthood”.

“Maybe, but for the next few months we belong to them. And for the whole of the press junket as well. Our souls are theirs, so let’s get back to the hotel”.

“Can we still disgrace ourselves in private?” Chris was sprawled in that elegantly inelegant way that seemed to come naturally to him, and made Zach the teensiest, barely-worth-mentioning-really horny. The only thing that saved Chris from being unbearable was the fact that Zach knew the second he stood up he was in danger of falling over something, or indeed nothing. Or failing that, of walking into a door.

“Get up.” Zach reached down and hauled Chris to his feet, where he lurched slightly but managed to at least stay upright.

“Sorry,” he said brightly, “I thought I’d already done that”. And then he did that thing - that thing that sent Zach into one of his periodic spirals of lust. He smiled, the full chipmunk smile, and accompanied it with the slightest, hardly-there-at-all hint of tongue. The bastard.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Zach finally did the face palm. “How? How is it possible?”

“What?” Chris was looking at his feet and trying to remember how they worked.

“Nothing. Come on, let’s get back before I do something I regret”.

“Story of my life right there,” Chris said gnomically, finally getting up the momentum to follow Zach into the night.

“Shall we walk back?” Zach gestured. It was a beautiful night here in - Utah? Arizona? - and anyway, there was no sign of a cab.

“I’ll risk it if you will.” Chris was still focusing on the whole forward motion thing. Walking was like - really difficult sometimes. He looked up and grinned again, gesturing at the empty street. “Have at it”. And with suitably Kirk-esque determination, he led the way down the dark street. More by luck than judgement, he happened to be pointing in the right direction. The hotel, fortunately, was close by, as Zach suspected that they would be lost in a matter of minutes if they had to go any distance.

“Man, I am so smashed,” Chris announced, his shoulder bumping up against Zach’s as they walked.

“You’re such a lightweight, Pine.” Zach kept his tone light. “You’re going to have to man up”.

“Nah. I’ll just rely on you to take care of me”.

Face palm.

**

The hotel was reasonably quiet - as quiet as a place could be when it was hosting a film crew. But it was that part of the evening when people were still out eating and drinking and sampling whatever delights the town had to offer. In a couple more hours there would be a lot more people crammed into the hotel bar, but as it was they made it across the lobby without being disturbed.

As the elevator door closed behind them, Zach pushed Chris against the wall. His judgement and Chris’ balance were both off slightly, so that Chris’ back whumped against the wall causing him to grunt, and Zach basically fell against him.

“Fucking classy as ever”, Chris said and put a hand to Zach’s face. “You romantic bastard”.

Zach simply stared at Chris, treating himself to a mental aperitif before he got stuck into the main course. Really, Chris’ mouth was nothing short of sinful. Sure, all the rest of the package was impressive and well worth checking out, but that mouth - Zach twitched just thinking about the things that mouth could do - had done - to him.

“Jesus,” he said. “I’m glad I got this gig”.

“Me gig or movie gig?” Chris smiled, since right at that second he knew exactly what Zach was most grateful for.

“Oh, you bastard”. And Zach leant in. Just as the elevator dinged its politest ding and the doors slid open. Fortunately the corridor thus revealed was empty of bystanders as Zach pushed himself upright by accidentally planting his hand in Chris’ stomach, which made Chris jerk forward and head butt Zach’s chin.

“We are so, so classy,” Chris said absently rubbing his forehead. “Just about as smooth as - a smooth thing. Satin. There you go - we are as smooth as satin”. He caught the just-closing door with his shoulder. “Or not, obviously”.

Zach was done with talking. Earlier, in his own head he had labelled Chris as ‘pliant’, and as far as Zach was concerned it was time to start playing.

**

Chris liked it rough, and he liked it gentle - basically he just liked it. And he really, really liked Zach. They were still getting to know each other, still finding their feet both in the movie and with each other, but the one obvious thing about Zach was just how much he liked to control. Chris didn’t mind - he came with no baggage and was easy-going and pleasure-seeking, and if somebody else wanted to do all the work - well, that was fine with him. Zach had once likened him to a cat as he had lain on the bed whilst Zach had positively petted him. It had made Chris laugh, but only to himself. Zach thought he was so in charge of this fledgling relationship. Chris knew where the real power lay. But he let Zach believe what he wanted, because why ruin a good thing?

He grinned at Zach, giving it everything he had, and was rewarded with a noise that may well have been a growl, which was new. He filed it away and then reached up to pull off the absurd headgear that Zach was using to cover the Spock haircut. “Hello,” he said. “Been waiting for this”.

“Jesus, Pine”. Zach reached down and slid his hands under Chris’ shirt, spreading his fingers across the warm flesh. “Jesus”.

“Stop with all the religion”. Chris made a tsk noise and leaned forward, licking Zach’s lips before kissing him. Chris was a good kisser, he prided himself on it. As an introverted, unattractive kid, he had had to make sure that when he did manage to score, they didn’t leave disappointed. He was also outstanding at blow jobs. As he had said to Zach whilst explaining his skills, some things just didn’t merit false modesty. “And anyway, I’ve got a fucking big mouth”. And after that, it had all just turned absolutely filthy.

“Talented tongue”, Zach muttered and Chris smiled, the space between them too small to measure. Chris loved this, loved the feeling of another body pressing against his own, the overwhelming fucking neediness of it - he could feel it coming off Zach in waves, and there were no words for how much he loved the power of it.

“Bed,” he whispered. “Just take me to fucking bed”.

**

Zach indulged himself in one of his new favourite things. He spread himself along the entire naked length of Chris who, although still catching his breath, laughed and wrapped arms and legs around Zach, pulling him close and laughing again, this time deep in his throat. The kind of laugh that would get him arrested if it had slipped out in a public place. It was the kind of laugh that made you think of sex; of bodies moving together, of sweat and heat and of voices in the dark. Of the glorious mess and near-pain that only really good sex can bring. Of utter satiation.

“Fuck”. Zach suspected he may have lost the ability to walk. “I still don’t get you, Pine. Not really”.

“Man of mystery, that’s me”. Chris sounded on the verge of sleep.

“You’re so together when you act and when you fuck”. Zach ignored the Chris snort. “But in everyday life you go around pulling on push doors”.

“Well, be glad I don’t pull on your push door”. Chris briefly tightened his arms and legs, then relaxed splaying himself across the bed. “Get off me”.

Zach rolled off him and they both winced at the feeling of soaked and sweaty skin parting. Then Chris turned onto his side, tucked one arm comfortably beneath his head, and draped the other across Zach’s chest. “This is good, you know?”

“What’s good?” Zach’s voice was low and slow, which did interesting things to Chris. Most interestingly of all, it appeared to make his palms itch. Although that could also mean that he was turning into a werewolf.

“This is”. Chris hooked his leg around Zach’s hip. “There are a lot worse ways we could be passing the time during filming”.

Zach didn’t respond and so Chris made an enquiring noise. “What?”

“I was just - “ Zach hesitated, then took a breath. “Do you think there’s a future here? With us?”

Chris rolled away. “Don’t get too deep about it, man,” he said. “Just enjoy what it is. If you overthink, you ruin what we’ve got now, worrying about something that may or may not happen”.

Zach pushed himself up on one elbow and stared until Chris started to squirm. “What? What’s with the staring?”

“Nothing”. Zach flumped back down onto the bed. “You’re right. I do overthink”. He grunted as, with a sudden movement, Chris rolled on top of him, kissing him soundly.

“We’ve got a lot to enjoy”, he said softly, “and this - this is just about the best”.

“Just about?” Zach raised an eyebrow in a suitably Spockian fashion.

“Well hell, I am Captain Kirk!” Chris laughed and kissed him again. “You’re fucking Captain Kirk!” He gave the chipmunk grin again, the one that screwed so badly with Zach’s insides, made him want to grip and twist nd hurt, as well as treasure and - how fucking embarrassing - protect. If Chris had suspected any of this he would have had an awful lot to say about it, although looking into those clever eyes, Zach suspected that Chris was in fact some kind of mind reader

“So - “ Chris rested his chin against Zach’s collarbone at the just the correct angle to guarantee maximum discomfort. “Wanna fuck?”

“That English graduate vocabulary”. Zach laughed, raising his hand to run it down Chris’ back.

“Fuck the vocabulary.” Chris wriggled and Zach whimpered. “Come on, Zach. Enough talking. Want me to make you come?”

Zach nodded wordlessly and Chris once again smiled, this time a smile that hovered on the edge of malice.

“Okay”, he said.

And he did.


End file.
